


Family Dinner

by tryceratops



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2013 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awkward family dinners with homophobic relatives, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryceratops/pseuds/tryceratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif joins Darcy's family for Christmas dinner and suitably impresses everyone. Except for Darcy's uncle Pete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Dinner

 “Alright, so, don’t really worry about being smooth with them or whatever, they won’t really care. Uh, we already went over the no smashing thing, right? Oh, people will probably give me shit for things, don’t worry about it, it’s mostly in good fun. Exception is my uncle Pete. If he says something rude about the fact that I’m dating a woman, then he’s totally fair game for whatever you want to do.”

“Darcy, it will be fine, I assure you, there is no reason for you to be so concerned.”

“I just hate awkward family dinners.”

Sif smiled, “I will do my utmost to keep things as comfortable as possible.”

“Right.” Darcy nodded, running her fingers through her hair, “So, how do I look? Acceptable?”

“Beautiful.”

“Flirt.” Darcy rolled her eyes and playfully hit Sif’s chest, “Save it for the bedroom.” She reached out and rang the doorbell. Immediately a dog started barking and there was the sound of footsteps coming towards the door before it was flung open and a plump middle aged woman with blonde hair stood in the doorway, beaming at them.

“Darcy!” She reached out to hug her tightly, which Darcy returned with enthusiasm.

“Hi mom, how’re you doing?”

Darcy’s mom released her and held her shoulders to look her over. “Oh, look at you,  you look great.” Sif shifted, still not used to the red sweater dress and black leggings that Darcy had convinced her to wear, and the movement immediately drew the attention of Mrs. Lewis to her. “And you must be Sif!” Darcy’s mom beamed at her and offered a hand. “It is so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!”

Sif accepted Mrs. Lewis’s hand and shook it firmly. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you as well, Mrs. Lewis, Darcy speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh, please, call me Patty.” Patty gave Darcy a clearly impressed look, not even trying to hide it from Sif. “Well, come in come in!” she gestured for the two of them to step inside, which they did after picking up their bags, and Patty shut the door behind them. “Make yourselves at home! Darcy, you’ll show her around, right? I’ve got a turkey to attend to.” She bustled out of the entryway before Darcy could even respond.

“Right, so, one down, like three dozen to go.” Darcy grinned at Sif. “Let’s go ditch our stuff before we get dragged into something else.” She began leading Sif to the staircase when three young boys came charging out of a room just a few feet away from them, carrying plastic swords and guns and yelling at the top of their lungs as they chased each other down the hall that Patty had disappeared down.

Sif watched after the boys and then looked to Darcy for an explanation. “My cousins.” She explained. “Little shits, to be honest. Your best bet is to stay away from them, otherwise they’ll make your life hell.” She shrugged. “Or you could offer to teach them how to really use those swords they’re playing with, but I’m pretty sure if you did that then my mom and aunts would kill you.”  She started up the stairs as if that was more than enough of an explanation.

Sif followed after her, examining the framed photos that lined the staircase leading upstairs as she went.

“So, this is my house.” Darcy began her tour spiel, “Those are embarrassing childhood pics of me and my brothers,” Darcy gestured at the photos on the wall. When she reached the top of the staircase she did a little twirl. “And this is the upstairs.”

There were four doors off the hall (which was covered with atrociously 80s wallpaper, according to Darcy), and Darcy quickly went through each of them. “Bathroom, Parents’ room, brother number two’s room, my room.”  She opened the door to her bedroom and shuffled inside, tossing her bag on the bed. It was kind of cramped, a desk jammed in a corner right next to the closet, a bookshelf sagging under the weight of all the novels Darcy had collected throughout her childhood, a double bed with a homemade comforter. The dresser was jammed into the closet for lack of anywhere else to put it. “Home sweet home.” Darcy looked at Sif, who was a bit distracted by a collage of high school photos tacked to the wall.

“Are these your friends?”

“Kind of. I don’t keep in touch with most of them anymore, but back in high school we were tight.”

Sif turned back to Darcy and smiled. “I like this house. It seems very…. You.”

Darcy grinned and gave Sif a peck on the cheek. “Come on, we should make an appearance downstairs before someone comes looking for us.”

The next few hours were a blur of activity. Darcy got roped into making mashed potatoes and setting the table and Sif was alternating between being interrogated by various relatives and being roped in to helping with whatever needed an extra set of hands at the moment. Both of Darcy’s older brothers had declared her worthy of their sister when she defeated them in an arm wrestling competition. By the time everyone was ready to sit down to dinner, Darcy was not doing quite as well as Sif. She’d had four glasses of wine, had sworn by mew-mew that she would murder at least three of her family members, and had smacked the hands of no less than six children (and adults) who had tried to sneak morsels of food before dinner was actually ready. Sif had held up marvellously and was still in great spirits, having made friends of pretty much everyone she’d talked to, with the exception of Uncle Pete who was a grumpy old homophobic jackass, but he hadn’t actually said anything rude yet, so Darcy counted that as a victory.

It took fifteen minutes from the time the food was actually on the table to round everyone up and get them seated. Two of Darcy’s young cousins had made each other cry, one of Darcy’s uncles had fallen asleep on the couch and swore a storm at the first three people who attempted to wake him, Darcy’s oldest brother had mysteriously disappeared into his basement room with his girlfriend thirty minutes before and, though her mom had asked her three times to go fetch him, Darcy outright refused to risk hearing her brother doing god-knows-what with his girlfriend, much to everyone’s frustration.

Despite all the difficulties, somehow everyone got crammed in around the table while the food was still warm, and soon everyone was dishing up their plates. Sif was fitting right in, participating in conversation that she understood (Darcy tried to direct it away from politics for the most part), sharing her own stories (sanitized and altered to leave out the “intergalactic warrior goddess” parts, as per Darcy’s instruction), and, near the end of the meal, fighting valiantly to claim the last bun for Darcy. It was a fierce competition between her and Darcy’s oldest brother, but Sif was not one to give up, and Darcy’s brother was no match for her. When she victoriously placed the bun on Darcy’s plate, Darcy gave her cheek a kiss and took the opportunity to whisper a brief explanation of how exactly she would thank Sif once they were alone.

The kiss on the cheek, of course, did not go unnoticed by Uncle Pete, who scoffed under his breath at the gesture and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Fucking dykes.”

Sif was never one to let an insult go unchallenged, and especially not when she had full permission to take Uncle Pete down a peg.

“Excuse me, sir, do you take issue with my relationship with your niece?”

Uncle Pete looked surprised at being called out, used to everyone just ignoring him and letting him stew in bigoted peace. The table went deathly silent as everyone realized what Sif had said. Eventually, Pete responded.

“I take issue with the fact that Darcy is wasting herself on someone like you. Pretty girl like her deserves a good man in her life.” Uncle Pete’s fifteen year old daughter, Sarah, who was seated next to him, was trying to get him to stop, but he was ignoring her. “I always warned Patty that not having a father figure in her life would screw Darcy up, and look.” He gestured at Darcy, “I was right!”

Sif stood very suddenly, drawing all attention to her. “I assure you, sir, that Darcy does not _need_ anyone in her life. She is quite able to exist independently of another. She has, however, chosen me as a companion, for which a feel eternally grateful and will do my utmost to see that she wants for nothing. A lack of suitable male influence most certainly did not have any influence in her decision to court me, and I will not sit back and watch as you so cruelly insult your own kin.”

Even the young children at the table sensed the tension in the air; Darcy was the only one who actually looked amused, though she was trying to hide it behind her bun.

“And what gives you any right to tell me how to speak to my own family?”

“It is my right and duty as Darcy’s partner to defend her as necessary.”

“Stop talking like a man, women don’t defend other women. What are you going to do, yell and cry at me?”

“Awwww shit, son!” Darcy muttered under her breath, rather excited now, and she looked at Sif. “Oh, uh,” she began in a regular voice this time, “This is my mom’s good China, don’t let it get hurt in the process?”

Sif nodded at Darcy. “Of course.” She turned her attention back to Pete, “I have proven false every man who has questioned my competence, and I have taken down far greater men than you for far lighter insults. If you truly doubt my ability to defend Darcy then I would be more than happy to prove my worth to you in battle.”

Darcy was watching Pete’s reaction gleefully from behind her bun. Pete, for his part, seemed suitably flustered.

“I didn’t… I’m not going to fight you. I’m not going to hit a woman.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I’m entitled to have my opinion about the acceptability of my niece’s relationships.

Sif stared at him for a long while before she sat herself down again, still perfectly composed. “I will not press a fight onto you, as that is not how things are done here, however, I must request that you refrain from speaking your poorly thought out, idiotic opinions in the presence of others, lest you infect them with your nonsense.”

Before Pete had a chance to respond, Darcy’s mom stood up quickly and clapped her hands. “Right, so, who wants some dessert? Pete, why don’t you come help me out in the kitchen.”

Pete stood up, grumbling to himself as he walked into the kitchen after Patty. The silence in the dining room remained stretched and tense, but Darcy ignored it and offered Sif her hand for a high five.

“You rocked that.” She grinned once Sif accepted her high five, and then offered a fistbump as well.

Dessert went off without a hitch, mostly thanks to Pete being sullenly silent on his side of the table, eating his pie viciously and refusing to talk to anyone.

After dessert, feeling that she had spent more than enough time with her family for the evening, Darcy pulled Sif upstairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

“You.” She poked Sif in the chest, “Are the post amazing woman I have ever met.”

Sif pulled her in for a hug. “Why, Lady Darcy, I could not sit by and hear him speak of you in such a way.”

Darcy pulled back with a grin. “Call me lady again.”

“My lady.” Sif bowed. Darcy backed up and sat on her bed and beckoned Sif towards her.

“Do it again.”

Sif strolled over to her and sat herself down so she was straddling Darcy’s lap, “I will do whatever my lady asks of me.” She ran a hand through Darcy’s hair and kissed her gently, leaning her back on the bed.

“God, I love you.”

“And I, you.” 


End file.
